


Reverence

by Bhelryss



Series: FE Rarepair Week 2017 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: AU: Werewolf, F/F, Prompt: Moon, minor Dozla, minor Ephraim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 19:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bhelryss/pseuds/Bhelryss
Summary: Fire Emblem "Rarepair" Week: Day OnePrompt: MoonShip: Eirika/L'Arachel





	Reverence

The woods of Rausten were filled with dark things. Remnants of bygone eras, when monsters freely roamed and people fled before them. But there were rumored legendary, mythological guardians of tooth and leather, and sworn, flesh and blood knights whose entire lives were devoted to keeping the weakened evils contained, and the rest of the world lived in relative ignorance of the creatures who crept and crawled in the night.

Renais, in contrast to the heavily wooded lands, was mostly valleys. Peaceful, idyllic. Monasteries crowded in among villages, nestled amongst trees that were not looming, or older than time memorable. That inherent peace did not shelter it forever though, especially not when Grado struck specifically to shatter it. Eirika, whose own peace had shattered in a way that must be irreparable, sought out her brother.

Her only remaining relative had been reported to be near, and over the Grado border, and her path to him took her through Renaitian forests. Villages, once thriving, were now subject to unhindered bandit attacks. Whatever Grado meant by its invasion, preserving the safety of the inhabitants...wasn’t it.

And then came her first sight of the horrors. Shuffling monsters that crept out of the gloom, some looked almost human. Almost. A single word from a monk, after rushing to their sides and before obliterating one of the creatures easily, sends an uneasy ripple of recognition through princess and the rest of the party.  _ Fiends _ . 

Dark monsters who’d served the ancient evil from the old legends, that the heroes of each nation, with the exception of Carcino, had defeated long centuries ago. 

Keeping to the cover of the trees, Eirika could only be grateful for the sun rising to its zenith. At night, in the woods, with malignant things all around...From a break in the treeline, up on the steep hill, Eirika could see a horse and rider. Company perhaps, who would come to aid them, though there was no way a horse, or for that matter a regular man, could hope to descend and keep their neck intact. They would be a while coming down the long way.

No help would come from that quarter.

Determined, Eirika gathered the attention of her people, and forged out from the relative safety of the trees. Forces splitting, she takes making sure one village closes its gates before while sending Artur and a few other down to the other. Magic and weapons clash with the monsters, and in the silence of the aftermath Artur returns with a stranger.

What they speak of, before leaving Eirika with Seth, is not heartening. Troubled, she turns to her paladin. Even with this turn of events, even knowing that it is likely they will encounter these monsters again, she cannot, will not turn from her path. Ephraim would never have considered abandoning her in hostile territory, and she is his devoted sister. He taught her the blade himself! How could she turn from him, when they are all each other has left in the world? 

Laughter, a warning. “Tremble, monsters, for I, L’Arachel have come to bless you with personal banishment at my hands!” A horse canters in, two figures trailing close and far behind it, and stops just before Eirika. There is a moment where the face of the mounted woman is almost animalistic in intensity, before the moment is over and she is just a beautiful woman. “Ah….” L’Arachel looks about, and then focuses on Eirika, and smiles so brightly that for an instant Eirika is swept up in it.

“Where are the fiends?” She asks, sparing a quick an unreadable glance to her grounded compatriots, who have just caught up, one of them panting and wheezing. “I did rush all this way in order to impress you with my remarkable Gifts…”

“We’ve only just finished,” remarked Eirika, a little overwhelmed. 

“That’s too bad Lady L’Arachel, ain’t it!” Laughs the bare-chested man, who slaps the other man on the back with gusto. The other man just wheezes, bent double and hands on his knees. Clearly winded.

Not too winded to manage a quiet, bitter, and ignored, “What’s too bad is dragging us all over the damned continent.”

And, given the opportunity to properly introduce herself, after Eirika’s cautious question, L’Arachel strikes a pose and turns an intense gaze back on her. “You will be honored to know it is L’Arachel, the shining light and true glory of the holy realm, of the sacred hunt-”

“My lady!” Dozla barks, no harshness in his tone, “Your true identity is a secret!!” He makes it sound like a game, and indeed, L’Arachel perks back up, after wilting slightly at the interruption.

“Too true, I do so forget myself. Still! How romantic to ride off into mystery!!” Turning back to Eirika, L’Arachel smiles toothily. “Fare thee well,” she says, before more openly addressing all of Eirika’s people. “Farewell, fair strangers!! Mayhaps our paths will cross again!” Before she shifts in her saddle, and her horse takes off into a canter. 

Dozla, without even breaking his even laughter, breaks into an effortless run. The other, heaves a sigh of incredible force, inhales, and then shuffles off after them, slowly picking up speed. Eirika, however, finds it more than a little unlikely he will catch up with them.

Shaking her head at the antics, thinking that there was no way there was anything common or usual about that interaction, but putting it aside for the more important tasks at hand, Eirika carries on her course.

Perhaps it is, a L’Arachel says, fate that their groups have met again. Dozla and L’Arachel both have an insatiable hunger for chasing and slaying monsters, and when she asked  _ why _ she received a most perplexing answer. Or perhaps not. For honoring family tradition, Eirika understood, but. The toothy smile, and the mention of the “Dogs of Latona,” however could not be so easily reasoned away.

Eirika had...not quite heard of them. She asked, but L’Arachel went strangely still. Something very like nervousness crossed her face, though that was peculiar and surely just a trick of the light. “It is not something to be spoken of so easily, Eirika. It is very much a sacred order.” She mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “ _ Perhaps Rennac…...not so blessed by the Saint’s sacred lights… _ ”, and then smiled that diamond bright smile. 

The rest of the conversation went well, though it ended sadly.

A week after, Eirika noticed L’Arachel and Dozla were...twitchier than usual. Still, they camped as they would, marching through Rausten’s woods towards the castle for the last hope, under the cover they could find with fires banked against the terrors of the night. The terrors that lay in the woods in waiting. 

At dusk, the moon rose. It was a hunter’s moon, full and bright and hanging in the sky to add light to the fires until the dawn. One by one, the forces hesitantly turned in for the night, leaving the watch to keep the vigils. The watch, Dozla, and L’Arachel, to Eirika’s puzzlement. The princess watched, as L’Arachel practically danced around Dozla, and then caught Eirika’s gaze and smiled in a way that had her face heating and her heart fluttering.

Dozing by the fire, shoulder to shoulder with a deeply asleep Ephraim, Eirika dreamed that L’Arachel and Dozla slipped into the woods away from the watch and the fires. She dreamed of animal noises and howls and her father’s favorite horse, who stood on two legs and danced an admirable waltz with Cormag’s wyvern. 

She wakes up when a log, tossed on the fire recently, pops. Startled, Eirika disentangles herself from the blanket tucked around her and Ephraim’s shoulders, and stands shakily. The pins and needles in her foot see her hobbling around the rocks ringing their firepit, grimly determined to shake the unpleasant sensation off. 

Occasionally wiggling her toes in her boot, jaw set against the unpleasantness, Eirika stared off into the darkness of the trees. Was that movement, out in the dark? A glance at the watch showed they’d neither seen, nor heard anything worth attention, though every now and then they shifted to keep from getting chilled.

Standing at the outskirts of camp with them, Eirika understood. Every moment she was still was a moment more for the dampness of the dew to work its way through the seams of her boots, for the chill of the night to raise gooseflesh where her skin was exposed. Shivering, she looked behind her to glow of the fires, and then she stepped out towards the trees. 

She had her sword, it was a habit the months had drilled into her. Get up, grab sword, move from there. It was her intent to just, check out what she’d seen. That movement that the watchers hadn’t noticed. The fires were close, close enough that even a half-raised yell would draw attention, and she was armed.

There was no better opportunity for investigation, though undoubtedly Ephraim would chastise her for leaving him out of the adventure regardless of what she found.

Scabbard in one hand and sword in another, Eirika forged forward. Underneath one of the towering pines, an oak tree further away only a black silhouette against the strong moonlight, Eirika realized that perhaps things weren’t as dark as she’d feared. The moon was strong, and directly overhead by now, and the shadows were stark against patches where the light hit the ground unfiltered.

It was...beautiful. Completely alien to the nights she’d spent in Renais’ forests, but beautiful all the same. Turning slowly, Eirika took in all of her surroundings. The night was quiet, the camp behind her smelling strongly of wood fires burning and the distinct smell of cooked meat. Not home, but...homey. And ahead of her, as she turned back to face the unknown - a wolf. 

Two wolves, larger than she’d thought. Perhaps she’d underestimated the size of wolves, or perhaps these were just larger than average. (But surely even regular wolves weren’t that big...bigger than even a large dog? No, she might not have grown up familiar with the creatures, but something that big couldn’t be real, right?) Frozen, point of her sword level with the lead wolf’s eyes, Eirika stares. 

And the wolves stare, neither making a move towards or away from her. Both parties, frozen. Then the one further away, the larger one, makes a barking noise like a laugh, flopping onto its haunches and singing into the sky. Eirika flinches, and the smaller one whines. It’s not small by any definition of the word, but this wolf is much smaller than its companion. Her fixation on the differences between the wolves must be the shock, Eirika thinks. Because in the end it won’t matter how big which wolf is, she’s just as dead if they decide she’s tasty.

Both wolves begin panting, and Eirika continues standing, watching the way tongues loll and the uncanny way the smaller wolf watches her. Tentatively, she takes a step backwards, towards camp. Neither wolf moves. Maybe she’s crazy, but it looks as though both of them are disappointed. In dinner escaping? 

What in Latona’s name…

A rattling breath to her left and even as she turns the wolves are moving. A hair-raising howl sees the smaller one ripping through the legs of an especially large fiend, sending the monster to the forest floor. The larger rips the creature’s head off as leaf litter sprays upwards, and then it flops back onto its haunches to sing laughter to the sky once more.

Just like that, the quiet returned, and only when the sounds of the night (the crickets, the bugs, the night birds, even a distant owl) come back does she realize how unnaturally quiet the forest had been before she’d even seen the wolves. Whatever these wolves were (and how unnatural they felt to her), they were at home within Rausten’s forests. They were comfortable, and the land was comfortable with them. 

The fact that they’d almost immediately gone back to their half-quiet staring contest, once the monster was dealt with and the night returned to its symphony, was more reassuring than perhaps it should have been. The smaller one even inched forward, bright eyes intent but mouth parted in what Eirika recognized as like a canine smile. Attentive ears, and no overt signs of aggression.

And is that- yes, puppy eyes. Without any true enthusiasm, Eirika stepped away again. The wolf’s ears fell, and that was clearly a whine. Stepping forward, and the ears perked up again. The oddest thing Eirika had ever seen, a wolf big enough to dwarf her, should it rear up on its hind legs, essentially begging for...pets? Something at least. 

This is so stupid, she thought, but she stepped forward again, and held out the hand holding the scabbard. The wolf made a noise between a bark and a yip, and immediately pushed its head into Eirika’s hand, nevermind the equipment in the way. Shocked, Eirika immediately withdrew her hand and jumped away, startled the wolf could move so fast. 

Still, the parting brought again the sad eyes and ears. “Are you, trying to guilt me?” Eirika asked, and still seated beside the dead monster, the larger wolf was clearly laughing at her. It was worrisome, how easy it was to read human intent and behavior into what was clearly  _ not _ human. Perhaps they were someone’s wolfdogs, and that was why they were so friendly to people? So easy to interact with? 

Her friendlier wolf did an excitable, prancing circle around Eirika, and then ran back to the other’s side. It paused, and for a moment the eye contact between them brought back to mind that serious moment with L’Arachel. And then the moment was broken, and the pair ran off deeper into the woods, leaving Eirika to return to camp wetter and more confused than she had ever been.

Morning broke too early for a girl who’d gone to bed with the moon high in the sky, but that quick breakfast before camp breakdown saw Eirika regaling Ephraim, L’Arachel, and Tana with her wolf adventures from the night before. L’Arachel, looking even more weary around the eyes than Eirika, smiled so warmly at Eirika and remarked, “You met the Dogs of Latona!” She sounded so confident, and Eirika so stricken by that warm smile, almost missed Ephraim’s retort.

“Wolves aren’t dogs.” 

L’Arachel was not deterred, and leaned forward with that same intense stare. “No, but the Saint Latona, when She used Her blessed light to corral the fiends and creatures into the dark woods where people fear to tread, left us with Her dogs. Wolves who can go into the places mere humans cannot! Who fight the fiends and return what they have stolen, if they can!

People who leave behind what they know under the light of the blessed moons, called to fight evil in the forms of Latona’s own hounds!! They’re blessed, and their number is few, but they are called to be Latona’s last gift to all of humanity!”

She paused, breaking off her breathless explanation to inhaled. Chest heaving with emotion, eyes as intense as Eirika has ever seen them. Breathless herself, Eirika felt like she’d been hit between the eyes. Had she truly never thought....never even dreamed the thought of L’Arachel being beautiful? She must have, because right now L’Arachel, pink in the cheeks from her excitement and pushing into Ephraim’s space with her finger and her lips parted as she catches her breath...L’Arachel is undeniably beautiful. 

Not finished, L’Arachel turned to address Eirika specifically. “My parents were not of Latona’s own, though they fought amongst them as knights. They were good, brave heroes who felt that even without Latona’s blessings, it was their calling to go out and fight the evils where they resided.” 

Eirika remembered L’Arachel’s effusive exuberance faltering, that time they spoke, when she’d mentioned her parents and the Dogs of Latona for the first time. Remembered that dip in volume, at the very end, “ _ What I would give, to have met them even once _ .” 

“They may not have been, not all of us are so blessed, but I am.” L’Arachel finished, and Eirika thought back to the beginning of this story, when L’Arachel had so warmly remarked that she’d met...the Dogs of Latona...And if L’Arachel had been one, then it only made sense that Dozla was the other. 

It was something she thought about all march long, from the shaded woods to the stone halls of Castle Rausten. L’Arachel, who made her heart flutter with just a smile, was also a wolf, when the moon was right. Perhaps it should have been more troubling, but Eirika had already met with her friend’s other form. L’Arachel was gentle and kind to her no matter how she looked, and even kept that charming exuberance no matter the changes she underwent. 

And Dozla had laughed, even as a wolf. They obviously kept their humanity, so what was so frightening about that?! 

With that thought buoying her up (L’Arachel was neither frightening, nor alien, not now that she knew the secret), Eirika and her people, Ephraim and his people, prepared to defend Mansel and his Sacred Stone. And, in the aftermath of victory, Eirika pressed an exhausted, exhilarated kiss to the corner of L’Arachel’s mouth. They’d won, the stone was protected (their futures would not die here, with the destruction of the last stone), and she’d kissed her crush.

Then she’d crashed, tired and exhausted, for enough hours that the morning light that had shone on them had turned to the dusty purple of twilight. Woken by the satiation of her own exhaustion, Eirika moved through the quiet castle searching for...something. Water, first, then perhaps something to eat. Then she would search out Ephraim, Seth, search out Innes and L’Arachel and everyone else who’d need to be in on the planning, and do what needed to be done. But first, her physical needs.

L’Arachel caught her with one hand around a glass of water and the other carrying buttered toast, cheeks full of the latter. “Eirika!” L’Arachel cries, all smiles. “Please grant me a moment of your time. I hope this is not too sudden, but, here. Would you look?” Putting glass and toast down, Eirika did look. 

A great stone, a ruby of what must be immense worth. Puzzled, Eirika looked back to L’Arachel. 

“For you, if you would - I would like you to have it. It has been within my family’s keeping, within Rausten, for generations.” Eirika opened her mouth to protest, but L’Arachel’s warm smile and a shake of her head was all that was needed to halt the words from being spoken. “No, I won’t accept a denial, I insist you take it.”

“L’Arachel…” Eirika said softly, holding the treasure with both hands, looking down at the stone and feeling something in her stomach flip. This was important, she knew something about this was important. “Well, in that case, I have no heirloom to give you in return, nothing of equal value, but perhaps, when the war is over, you will come to Renais with me.

“If that pleases you?” 

Her answering smile was like a sunbeam, and it brightened the whole room. “I would love that. So, you mustn’t get yourself killed, in the coming battles. And I won’t myself, obviously, and we will be very happy in each other’s company. Won’t we?” 

“Yes, yes we will.”

“May i kiss you?” L’Arachel whispers, and though the other woman is smaller than Eirika, who has always looked to be a match to Ephraim aside from the length of her hair, her presence is large enough that is takes Eirika’s breath away. Voiceless, she nods, and this kiss is neither poorly aimed nor does its quality fall short due to exhaustion or post-battle clumsiness.

Breath effectively stolen, Eirika smiles back. L’Arachel’s gaze is intense, and warming, and her smile is worth as much as diamonds, to Eirika. “Our love will look like reverence,” L’Arachel says, and the words vibrate in the air even as Eirika takes the opportunity kisses back. 


End file.
